


Nowhere To Go

by obwjam



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: G/T, Gen, Giant/Tiny, References to The Borrowers, but for now it's just platonic, i will add more characters as time goes on if more come, lots of fluff, never intended this to be romantic but maybe it'll end up that way idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-06-16 10:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obwjam/pseuds/obwjam
Summary: Peter Parker x borrower!reader | after escaping your last capture, you're wandering outside for days... until a certain friendly neighborhood spiderman finds you.





	1. Lost

“H-hey, where’d you go, little buddy?”

You were shaking, back pressed firmly against the wall. The cold brick sent a sharp shiver throughout your body as your eyes followed the massive shadow you were shrouded in.

“C’mon, I won’t hurt’cha!”

That’s what the last human said. The one who had caught you when you took a little too long to get food. The one who kept you in a jar on his nightstand for two weeks before you found a way to escape. You had no intentions of making a mistake like that again.

Suddenly, a red-colored foot slammed down in front of you, causing you to bolt to the left. You looked up, nearly shrieking when you got a good look at his face—this human was wearing some sort of full-body suit with wide white eyes that were tilted downward. You stumbled as you continued running, hurdling over pebbles with a burning sensation in your legs every time you landed. Your chest felt like it was caught on fire with every breath you took.

“No, hey, don’t run!” the voice called out. You made the blunder of looking back; an impossibly giant hand was extending down toward you, completely engulfing your view. You tripped over a rock, tumbling across the concrete out of control. You could feel your skin being cut up with each time you hit the ground. When you finally came to a stop, your entire body was stinging. Your pants were slashed and there were multiple gashes on your arms, blood leaking out of some of them. You cried out in pain as warm, salty tears streamed down your cheeks.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?”

The giant was now leaning over you, and the sensation of a being hundreds of times your size lingering over you made you want to get up and start running again. But your ankle was swollen and you could barely straighten your leg out without feeling like your knee was going to pop. You had no choice but to look up. The human had taken off his strange mask, revealing the face of a teenager with chocolate brown eyes and a boyish charm you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh man…” sympathy dripped from his lips. Those giant lips that would have no trouble smushing the life out of you. You couldn’t even bear to look at his face; you felt pinned under his piercing gaze.

Two gloved hands filled your vision again, but this time you could only whimper as he gently slid his fingers underneath you. You tensed up at the contact, your breath momentarily stopping as you were elevated up. You squeezed your eyes shut and, with all the energy left in you, moved your hands up to your face to try and quell the dizzying sensation you were getting from being lifted up so fast. You could feel the human’s hands shaking slightly.

“Woah, bud, you look really scraped up,” his voice crashed into you like a tidal wave. Your ears were ringing as he continued to speak.

“I-I gotta get you back so I can fix you up. D-don’t be scared, just, just hang on, okay?”

His fingers curled up and you were covered in darkness. Your tiny fingers clutched to the fabric of his gloves as you felt him begin to climb. You had to admit, he was going slower than you anticipated, but the few times he slipped, you really felt it. As terrified as you were, you would much rather be inside a house where you could easily find a place to hide than outside in the cold.

You heard the  _schlick_ of a window being slid open and the soft thud of the human’s feet hitting solid ground again. He slowly uncurled his fingers and you immediately shut your eyes at the blinding light. It took a few seconds to get adjusted, but once you did, you instantly felt humiliated for even thinking this was going to be safer than outside. The room was small, with a bunk bed tucked in the corner and a desk adjacent to it. Giant tools and science equipment cluttered the surface of the desk, and the tears began to flow again, tracing down the dried up lines of the last time you cried only minutes ago.

“No, no, no,” you breathed as the human whisked you over to the desk. He tried his best to be gentle as he awkwardly slipped you off his hands, allowing you to finally sit up.

“I-I’m going to go get some… towels,” he said. You weren’t sure what kind of towels he would get that wouldn’t suffocate you. “I-I’ll be right back. Stay right there, okay?”

As soon as he left the room, you staggered up and began looking for a means of escape. If he was anything like the last human, you would just become another experiment. And this one seemed particularly into science.

You reached down to your belt loop, unhinging the paper clip and string. You twirled it and tossed it out, watching as it secured on the nearby windowsill. You gave it a little tug to make sure it was secure before limping over to the wall. You were pretty sure your ankle was busted, but your arms were strong enough to pull you up. As soon as you got to the top, though, the human was back, holding a bunch of strange objects in his hands you didn’t even recognize.

“Hey, bud! I got the… aw, man!” his gaze fell to where he had left you. Your stomach dropped when he entered—even though he was across the room, you could still feel how much bigger he was than you. His eyes darted around the room but they found you in mere seconds.

“Hey! No! Don’t go!” he said, shutting his door and striding toward you. You snapped out of your shock and quickly turned to leap out the window, but he was over you before you could even let your hook go. He closed the window, the force almost blowing you off the sill. Your hands flew to your ears to shield yourself from the deafening noise of the window coming down.

He was now bending down to meet your level, and you felt like throwing up. His face was absolutely gigantic and he did not look happy at your lackluster escape attempt.

“C’mon bud, It’s not safe out there right now. A-and it’s not safe for you out there in general! You look seriously hurt,” he said, reaching his hand over. You shrieked and staggered back, slamming against the window with sweaty palms.

A faint whimper escaped your lips. “P-please, don’t…”

The human suddenly stopped, putting his hand back to his side. His eyes were filled with even more sympathy than before.

“O-oh, okay. I’m sorry.”

You looked as the human pulled a chair over and sat down. You were trembling against the glass, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Do you have a name? Mine’s Peter.”

You looked up. Nobody had ever asked you that before.

“I…” you tried, but looking into his giant eyes brought back that awful feeling that reminded you how small and insignificant you were.

“C’mon, little bud,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be scared of me.”

You subconsciously glanced over to all the equipment sitting a few feet below you on the desk. Peter followed your gaze, suddenly realizing what it must look like to someone your size.

“O-oh no! Hey! That stuff is just for my science project. I-I’ve had all month to do it but it’s due next week and I haven’t even started it.”

You looked at him with not even a clue of what he was talking about.

He laughed again. “I-I’m not going to use that stuff on you! No way. I don’t want to hurt you, lil’ guy.”

_Please, stop calling me that._

“I gotta get you cleaned up, though. Those cuts look awful,” he said, leaning over to the materials he had brought in. There were some napkins, a thicker looking white tape and a bottle full of clear liquid. You were terrified of having those giant fingers touch you; giant fingers that could pinch the life out of you in seconds without even trying. Peter, somehow, could sense your every emotion.

“Hey, listen, I know you don’t like when I… how about I just show you what to do and you can do it yourself?”

That was… strangely considerate for a human. But you couldn’t just outright accept his offer to start rubbing yourself with something you didn’t recognize. It was probably a trap, just like the last time.

Peter frowned as you just stood there. “Is everything alright? Did I do something?”

Silence.

“H-hey, come on, bud,” he said with the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice. “I can’t help you if you don’t—”

“I don’t  _want_ help,” you sneered. You were just as surprised as Peter that you had said something. You looked up, his puppy dog eyes looking a little glossy. You whimpered and sunk down, flinching from the pain as you buried your head between your knees.

You heard the sound of plastic rolling against hardwood and glanced through your knees. Peter had moved over to his science equipment, fiddling around with some chemicals and jotting notes down.

_Why did I just do that? He probably has so much food here. He could have supplied me through the next year. He was only trying to help._

“Unless he’s just helping because he thinks you’re helpless,” you muttered to yourself.

A few minutes passed before the sound of Peter’s voice echoed through your ears.

“D-do you want something to eat? Aunt May ordered Chinese food and there’s plenty of leftovers.”

You  _really_ didn’t want to look back up at him, but you hadn’t eaten in the two days you had been wandering outside. Your head still in between your knees, you nodded, hoping he would see. Peter’s face lit up as he spun out of the chair and dashed out of the room. Within seconds he returned and you looked up—he was carrying strange white boxes filled with food that smelled unlike anything you had ever known.

Peter could see the look on your face, smiling when he saw you had another emotion besides terrified.

“You like Chinese?” he asked, setting a napkin down next to you. You scooted back and shook your head no.

“O-oh, I can get you something else?”

You shook your head again, groaning when you realized he wouldn’t get it unless you spoke.

“I’ve… I’ve, uh, n-never had this food before,” you stuttered, utterly embarrassed with how weak you sounded.

“What! You’ve never had  _Chinese_ before?” he said, surprised. “Oh man, well, you’re gonna love it. Can you handle spicy food?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know what that is.”

Peter was astonished. “You’ve never—? Okay. Well. It’s like this food that tastes really good but it sets your mouth on fire and you need to drink a lot of milk before you stop feeling on fire. But it’s really good. But it hurts.”

Peter laughed at the horrified expression on your face. “Why would anyone eat that?” you said, more asking yourself than Peter.

“Because!” he said, sticking his spoon in the container and gently putting some food down on your napkin. “It’s amazing. Come on. Try some.”

You looked at the food warily, letting the steam warm you up before reaching in and grabbing a piece of what looked like chicken. You took a small bite—it was delicious. You scarfed the whole piece down within seconds, much to Peter’s amusement.

“Big stomach, huh?” he said with a mouth full of food. You nodded happily.

It took you a bit to finish all your food. You listened to Peter go on about his science project to you, and you couldn’t help but be entertained by the way he talked so happily. By the time he finished talking, you had cleared the napkin off completely. And you were  _stuffed_.

“Did you feel the spicy?” Peter asked, throwing the containers away.

You shook your head. “Was I supposed to?”

Peter giggled. “Man, you’ve got some high pain tolerance for such a little guy.”

His face sunk when he saw the offended expression you made. He rolled his chair back over, his face closer to you than before.

“I-I’m sorry. I just… I’ve never… you haven’t even told me your name yet!”

You looked up, both petrified he was this close to you and intrigued at how he was treating you.

“I’m (y/n),” you said meekly.

A small smile spread across the human’s face. “(Y/n). A-and I-I know this is probably a stupid question, but… what are you?”

You sighed. “I’m a Borrower.”

“A Borrower? Like from fairy tales?”

You shot him a look and he quickly backed down. “We… live in the walls of human houses and take the things they won’t miss. Food scraps, unused supplies. We… we don’t exactly live in luxury.”

“That’s awful, (y/n),” Peter said. You could somehow tell he was being genuine, so you kept going.

“Most humans see us as novelties. As…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence without flashes of your previous two weeks crossing your mind. That jar… the constant prodding… you began to shake again, hands clamming up at the mere memories.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Peter said gently. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. B-but I don’t want to keep you as a… as a pet… I-I just want to help you. You looked lost, and really scared and overwhelmed out there. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were silent. You didn’t know what to say.

“Y-you can go whenever you want to, you know,” he said quietly. “I can’t make you stay here.”

You stared down at your hurt ankle, remarking how swollen and bruised it was getting. This human was unlike anyone you had ever encountered or lived with.

Peter waited a few seconds for you to say something, sighing when you stayed quiet. He started to roll back to his science project, but you spoke before he could get there.

“I-I think I should get cleaned up before I go anywhere,” you said, tilting your head back up to the human. He was looking at you with his innocent hazel eyes, a small grin forming on the corners of his mouth.

“You need any help getting down?” he asked softly.

“N-no, I’ll just slide down,” you replied, slowly lowering yourself back to the surface of the desk. You hobbled over to where the bottles were and tried your hardest not to look at how much they towered over your small form. You took a seat, taking your ripped-up jacket off and sticking your hurt ankle out.

“O-okay, I’m going to try my best. If something hurts, please please  _please_ tell me and I’ll stop. But by the looks of your cuts, you really look like you could use… a big hand,” he said with a goofy grin, holding his hand up so you would get the joke.

For the first time in what felt like years, you let out a laugh. You had a real good feeling about Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally posted on my tumblr but i decided to upload it here too! by popular demand this will evolve into more than a one-shot so look out for more soon!


	2. Break Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you're not so used to living with a human... especially not this one

You were going to leave. Really, you were. After all, he had  _offered_  it to you, and you had never heard of a human just letting a Borrower leave.

But it was just the weirdest thing. You didn’t want to.

Well, even if you  _wanted_  to, you knew it wouldn’t be safe to. Pain still shot through your leg every time you put pressure on it, and besides, it was raining.

Maybe it was the kindness he had shown you from the very start. How he had no ulterior motive; he just wanted to help. Maybe it was how ridiculously gentle he was when he cleaned up your scrapes and cuts. Maybe it was how he had made you smile for the first time in ages. You didn’t really know, but you didn’t really care. Peter did this thing called school every day, which just meant he was gone for almost 12 hours every day. And when he came home from this school, which Peter told you was just a bunch of work, he sat around for a few more hours doing  _more_  work at his desk. Maybe being a Borrower wasn’t so bad after all.

But it was Friday now, and Peter said he didn’t have school on the weekends. Which meant it was the first time you’d really be spending all day with him. It was exciting—you got kind of sick of just being sequestered alone in his room. But at the same time, you were terrified. What if he’s just been putting on an elaborate act? The last human certainly did that for a bit. Now that he has time, maybe he was finally going to start putting his master plan to the test. First, it was the jar. Then, experiments. Isolation. Starvation—

That happened a lot. The panic attacks while Peter was gone. In fact, you were so wrapped up in your nightmare world that you didn’t even hear Peter enter his room.

“(Y-Y/n)?” he called out, searching for you. He immediately felt something was off the moment he stepped in his room. He scanned his desk and his eyes fell upon your favorite spot on the windowsill. You were… sweating? Why weren’t you responding?

“(Y/n)!” Peter dropped his backpack by the door and rushed over, gently cupping his hands in the air around you.  _That_  seemed to get your attention. You suddenly felt like the space around you was closing in, and all you saw were pink fleshy palms. You screamed.

“N-NO! PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T! PETER, PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I-I—”

“Oh my gosh, (Y/n)! What are you talking about?! I-I’m not going to—” Peter suddenly felt conscious about his hands and put them to his side, thinking maybe that’s what spooked you. But you were still shaking.

“(Y/N)! It’s okay! You’re okay,” he said softly. Though he just put his hands to the side, he couldn’t help put take his pointer finger and gently place it on your back, stroking it slowly. “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s Peter. You’re here, you’re okay.”

You jumped at the touch, but you quickly realized what was  _actually_  happening. That touch… it was so soothing. You wiped the tears that were now pouring out of your eyes and took a few more choppy inhales before you finally felt your heart rate returning to normal.

“P-Peter…” you stuttered, suddenly clinging onto his finger. “I-I’m s-so sorry, I—”

“(Y/n),” Peter cut you off, “you don’t have to apologize.” He gently tugged his finger away. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You nervously eyed him, thankful for his comfort but still caught up in your frenzy of terrifying emotions. Peter took note of this and quietly grabbed his backpack and placed it down next to his chair. He got up (you still didn’t move) and took off his shoes and jacket, tossing them in the vicinity of his closet. He wasn’t foreign to anxiety and panic attacks, but he had no idea you were going through that. He felt a wave of guilt for leaving you here alone—but you would have been terrified at school. He felt bad for keeping you here—but you were hurt and couldn’t survive on your own out there, especially in the New York winter.

“What… what happened, (Y/n)?”

You flushed red. How were you going to explain this? All you wanted was to feel big and strong, but you’ve never felt smaller.

“I… I—I just… I don’t know. I get in my own head sometimes, I guess.”  _I think about everything that could possibly go wrong_.

“I know what you’re going through, (Y/n).” Peter’s eyes went wide when you showed your confusion. “I—I mean, I guess I can’t  _really_  get what you’re going through, b-but… I know the anxious feeling.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Really?” You couldn’t even imagine a human getting anxious about anything. What did they have to worry about?

“School, social life… all that stupid stuff,” Peter mumbled. “The stupid stuff that nobody else really gets worried about.”

You didn’t really have a grasp of the scale of the stuff he was talking about. It didn’t sound like life or death, but to Peter, it probably felt like it.

You sighed. “I was thinking about the last time I was with a human. It was… not too long ago. They came across as nice, a-and curious and willing to help. And I was roped in, and when they started to do…” you trailed off, shutting your eyes to stop tears from leaking out. “I-It wasn’t good. A-and I’m still afraid… not that I think you would do a-anything, really, but…”

Peter watched with sympathy the entire time, trying to wrap his mind around what you were feeling but failing. He certainly felt fear as Spider-Man, but that was a whole different kind. He wasn’t used to feeling like the bad guy.

“(Y/n), I’m not going to do anything like that to you. Ever,” he asserted. “I-I’m just… here to help.” He smiled weakly. “I’ll help you out until you’re feeling good enough to leave. And then you can… be on your way, I guess.”

Silence fell upon both of you. You didn’t have much else to say. Peter looked at you for a few more moments (you continued to stare at the ground) before getting up and settling himself at his desk, taking out his books and doing his homework.

You sat there, watching him from afar for a while. He never once looked back up at you.

_I’m such an idiot. I’m forcing them to be here against their will. They just see me as an enemy. I should have known. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up._

The longer you sat on the windowsill, the more awkward you felt. Your stomach still panged when you thought about Peter, but you could still feel his gentle touch when you closed your eyes. Using all your strength, you made your way over to his desk, wincing a bit as you hopped down and landed on your bad leg. You hobbled over to Peter, gaping up at him furiously scribbling something on paper. You waited for him to notice you standing there, but he didn’t even notice. You took a deep breath, but you didn’t say anything. You decided to sit down until he saw you.

That took about 15 minutes.

When he finally,  _finally_  looked up from his paper, he glanced down in your direction, taking a moment to register you were sitting there. Peter jumped, fumbling his pencil and dropping it. You stepped out of the way as it rolled toward you, and Peter quickly plucked it up and slammed it down on the other side.

“(Y/n)! I didn’t… how long have you been sitting there?”

You shrugged. “I got bored.”  _I really wanted to see what you were doing._

Peter nodded slowly, awkwardly fiddling with his thumbs. “H-how did you even get over here? With your leg?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”  _It hurts like hell and now I kinda wanna go back up there._

“What are you doing?” you asked, shakily standing up to take a look at what he was scribbling on paper. It was a bunch of numbers, arrows and diagrams. You couldn’t read very well, but you _knew_  those weren’t words.

Peter huffed a nervous laugh. “I-I like to build computers in my spare time. I’m just kinda sketching the idea I had for one…”

You didn’t know what exactly a computer did, but you slowly walked on top of the paper and looked at the work.

“This is…”

“…Pretty stupid, I know,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes followed you as you walked on his paper, reading and inspecting his drawings and equations. Why did he feel… embarrassed?

“N-No!” you said, a little too emphatically. “I-I mean, it’s fun building stuff.“

"You build stuff too?”

You laughed. “Well, I mean, nothing like a computer. But I… when I was living with others, I was always the one to put the scraps everyone got into someting useful. Different kinds of hooks, ropes, baskets… lots of things for gathering supplies. Beds. All that stuff.”

Peter never even stopped to consider that you needed all that. He just assumed…

“That’s pretty awesome, (Y/n). I can show you how I build computers once I sift through the trash and find the things I need,” Peter said, grinning.

You were surprised. “Why do you need to go through trash? That’s… that’s the kind of thing I would do.”

Peter pursed his lips at your statement. “Well, I don’t know if you can really tell, but… I’m not exactly filthy rich. Plus it’s fun taking stuff other people don’t want and turning it into something useful.”

You almost smiled at what he said. “I know the feeling.”

Nobody said anything for a bit as you kept looking at his drawing. How on earth did he find the time to build this? Which reminded you…

“Do you do this kind of stuff at school all day too?”

Peter laughed, not really wanting to talk about school. “I wish. But we do a lot of cool stuff there too! A lot of people don’t like school, but… I really enjoy it.”

“It sounds cool,” you replied, still starting at Peter’s work. He had been telling you bits and peices about his week at school, but not enough to really get what went on. You wanted to know more.

“You should come with me!” Peter said absentmindedly, almost forgetting who he was talking to and what he was talking about. Immediately, you shot him a look.

“W-What? N-No! I couldn’t—I mean, all those people—”

“Woah, woah,” Peter said, wheeling back in his chair and leaning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. You don’t have to come with me. I just thought it would be cool, you know… getting to see what I do every day. Plus, I feel really bad that you have to stay here all day with nothing to do and no one to talk to.”

You huffed, your eyes darting back down to the floor as you crossed your arms and hugged yourself. “I normally don’t have anyone to talk to anyway.”

Peter frowned. “Listen, (Y/n)… I know you see me as some kind of… thing that’s going to hurt you… but, y-you’re really cool and I just want you to know that I don’t see you as anything other than… you. I-I know I’ve been gone all week, but i-if you want, I’d really like to show you around a bit… only if you want, of course. M-my friend Ned is doing something with his family this weekend and, well… we should hang out.”

You found yourself looking back up at Peter with wide eyes. You had never heard that much sincerity in someone’s voice in a long time. But how could you trust a human at this point? You felt so ridiculous doing so. This is how you got yourself in a mess last time; hastily giving out your trust.

"Peter, I don’t know…”

He could read the uncomfortability in your voice. “I-It’s okay. Just, forget I said anything.”

He turned his attention back to his drawing. You expected to feel some relief when he stopped staring at you, but you felt… upset. Funny for turning him down. Stupid for refusing.

It was weird. You don’t know what it was about what he said, or how he said it, but you believed it. Despite everything…

“I want to.”

Your voice was so small that no normal human would have heard what you said. He stuck the pencil behind his ear and looked down at you, trying not to smile. “Wait, really?”

You laughed. “Yeah, Peter. Let’s hang out.”


End file.
